Dark History
by CaraLee934
Summary: "Long, long ago there was a fair land known as Albion, and in this land, more than any other, Magic was known and its effects felt, both good and bad..." Dragonlord Headcannon and purge story, written in a "storytelling" style since I read too much Rosemary Sutcliff and Tolkein. Only rated K plus because I like to be cautious. I honestly think it could get away with a K.


_*Insert witty disclaimer here.* If you haven't guessed, I don't own Merlin_

**_A brief note before the story ~ This actually wasn't something I'd ever intended to publish, it started out as me trying to get some my head-cannon dragonlord background for Merlin straight, and then trying to do it in a more formal, storytelling style. _**

**_The storyteller is supposed to be one of the Tylwyth Teg, who are essentially, very similar to Tolkein's elves (so much so that I stole some language from them. I don't own that either.) They are related to the Sidhe, but they are neither blue, nor bug-sized._**

**_So...Essentially, this is my head-cannon, written down in purple prose, for your enjoyment (or un-enjoyment)_**

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Long, long ago there was a fair land known as Albion, and in this land, more than any other, Magic was known and its effects felt, both good and bad. In a time so far gone that it is lost to human memory war ripped these lands one from another, dividing it into countless petty kingdoms, ruled by lesser kings, the line of the high kings all but forgotten.

There was one kingdom within the kingdom that stood far above all the others, in both might of war and peace and prosperity alike. It was called Logres, and also Camelot, after the great shining city that was its capitol. And it chanced, or came by design of the Greater Power, which is older and truer than the old religion, and purer than the unicorn, that a king came to power in Camelot by the name of Uther, of Roman descent and upbringing. His wife was the fair Igraine from the south and the east, whose hair was as yellow-gold as the butterfly's wing, and whose eyes were as blue as the clear summer sky over the parapets.

His two greatest counselors were Gaius, the court physician, who was the king's elder by a handful of years, and also a sorcerer of some small power which he used in his healing, and Nimueh, the youngest of the three high priestesses of the old religion, a witch of great strength who, though he knew it not, at times dabbled in that which is forbidden.

For a time these four lived happily, together keeping Camelot in health. But a shadow fell upon the royal court, for many years had passed, and the queen had not conceived. When it was discovered that she was indeed barren, King Uther turned to Nimueh and begged of her that she enable his wife to carry an heir.

Nimueh stood silent a moment, her eyes seeing not what was in the room before her, but rather something distant. "It can be done, but it will have a price. A life for a life."

But Uther was desperate, and bade her do all in her power to give him an heir. So Nimueh journeyed to the Isle of the Blessed, and there, in secret, she worked a dark magic. A magic which was seldom taught to any, because of the great power it wielded.

And nine moon cycles later, there was born to Uther and Igraine, a beautiful son, with downy hair that shone as gold as the threads in his mother's gown, and eyes as blue as her own. And he was given the name Arthur.

But sorrow soon followed, for it was less than an hour's time by the sundial in the garden after the young prince took his first breath, that his royal mother took her last.

The kingdom grieved, for Igraine was a much loved Queen, full of compassion and care for the people, and wisdom and insight in counsel.

Uther, full of rage for the death of his wife, confronted the priestess Nimueh and demanded to know why she had killed the queen. He received only one answer.

"A life for a life my king. You made the bargain."

In his rage and his sorrow and his guilt, Uther declared magic outlaw, and the lives of all who wielded it forfeit, Nimueh had fled, but he ordered the arrests and executions of all others who dwelt in the kingdom and were known to possess magic. Only Gaius alone was spared, and he swore an oath to never again use his gifts.

Men, women, and children alike, the slightest connection to magic meant death, and so many died in those dark years. Iseldir of the druids counted the lives lost some decades later and estimated that over 400 men, 600 women, and 375 children were slain in the first year alone.

Uther was not the only man who's grief became rage. Tristan De Bois, the younger brother of the Queen challenged Uther before the gates of Camelot and they fought to the death. And thus Tristan was buried beside his beloved sister.

It was then, some three weeks after the Dark Days began, that Uther committed a most grievous crime.

He fell upon the stronghold of the Dragonlords by night, as they and their kin the great dragons were sleeping. The clan had grown few, as had the dragons themselves, but in that year there were yet three dragons and their lords. Kilgarrah, the oldest and greatest of them all, his mate Tára, and the young Berenon, who had not yet seen his first century. Kilgarrah was not at the hall when the knights of Camelot attacked, but Tára the Golden fell by the spear of Uther himself, her eggs shattered, and Berenon was similarly slain.

The Dragonlords fared no better. Vëaner the wise, their chieftain, was dragged from his bed and murdered on the threshold of his hall, together with his wife and three sons. Aldon of the left-hand fell as he attempted to defend his daughter's child from those who sought them harm. Thus two of the remaining lines of the Cánolókë were no more.

Balinor, son of Addaon, the youngest of the three, who had no family living since his father's death in battle some years previous, escaped in the confusion and fled to the forest of shadows which surrounded the Hall of Dragons. There he dwelt in fear for two cycles of the moon, before a messenger came from Uther, who purposed to grieve for the wrongs done to the dragons and their kin. He asked that Balinor come meet with him, and speak of peace between their three races.

Yes, their three races, for the Cánolókë were no mere mortal men. The clan began of the Tylwyth Teg, a family most closely tied to the winged serpents. The fathers of those known as the Dragonlords wed mortal women, and it was their children that commanded the Great Dragons with a word.

Uther offered peace to Balinor, and Balinor, being young and weary, agreed to meet with Uther in a cavern beneath the city that was the capitol. And, once met, Uther requested with fair words that the young Dragonlord summon Kilgarrah, the greatest and last of dragons, that he too should treat with them.

Thus did Uther craft a trap into which the young lord fell. When Kilgarrah stood before them, the trap was sprung, Kilgarrah chained, and Balinor once more barely escaped with his life. Indeed, it was only through the kindness of the physician Gaius that he escaped at all, for the healer hid him until the danger was passed, and then sent him to the village where his sister, a young woman by the name of Hunith dwelt…but that is another story.

Uther was now called Pendragon, for he had taken the head of Tára the Golden, and hung it in the great hall of Camelot, as one would hang the head of a dumb animal as a trophy, the shards of her lost eggs were stored in the vaults, or made into trinkets to decorate the ladies of the court.

Nimueh had fled to the Isle of the Blessed, where she met with her fellow high priestesses, Morgause of Orkney, and Vivienne, wife of Gorlois of Cornwall, who was chief among the three. The elder two counseled patience, and so for many years she laid in wait, plotting the downfall of Uther Pendragon.

Chained in a dark cavern beneath the earth, Kilgarrah was left to mourn the loss of his mate, his young, his kin, and his freedom. Over time his grief and anger smouldered, becoming a deep, burning hatred like a festering wound. Without a Dragonlord near, to calm him and balance his wild nature, he descended further into madness with each passing year, and he waited, for the day when he would no longer be held back from wreaking his vengeance on Uther Pendragon.

For more than two years after the flight of Balinor there was only sorrow. Well are they called the Dark Days, for it seemed that all hope was lost, and Albion doomed forever to the shadows of legend.

However, it was then that hope was once again conceived, in a peasant's hut in a small village surrounded by forests and mountains. It was a night in which Magic once again stirred, and something great began.

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**A/N: I'm a huge Arthurian legends geek, and this is me combining the show with other tidbits from the legends and Tolkein.**

**If something in my explanation of the Dragonlords confused you, let me know and I'll explain in plain English(I expect you will be confused, I didn't really do a very good job of narrating their background in this...blurb?)**

**The names I gave the dragons and Dragonlords other than Balinor's father are all Tolkein's elvish.**

**Cánolókë - The name for the Dragonlords as a clan, means (very) roughly "Commander of Dragons" In Quenya.**

**No, the Morgause mentioned is not Morgana's big sister, she is her namesake, and she is Gwaine's mother. (I have a very complicated headcannon for Merlin. Maybe someday I'll write an actual story for it. Maybe soon!)**

**If you want to know anything review please! Even if you don't want to know anything, pretty please! Just leave a little "thumbs up" or "thumbs down", but it would make this writer very happy if you reviewed at all. *Insert Puppy Dog Eyes of Doom* Also, let me know if you see any grammar errors, I tend to miss those.  
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